


unfinished G/B time travel wip

by rusblk



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Evil Author Day, M/M, Time Travel, Unfinished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29469585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rusblk/pseuds/rusblk
Summary: Post-WYLB, Bashir travels in time back to his first day on DS9.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, Julian Bashir/Ezri Dax
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	unfinished G/B time travel wip

**Author's Note:**

> Written on 2018/11/30. I don't know much about Evil Author Day, was motivated to post something anyways, and realized I've already uploaded all my better wips before. This one dosen't even have a title! The writing is not smooth at all but I'm still a bit fond of the idea.

Julian Bashir wakes up. Ezri must have left early. She told him that she had an early shift this morning. He knew, but the coldness makes him numb. Then he realizes he's lying on the sofa. He looks around. It is the very same quarter, but something is off. He can't tell exactly which. He must know. He looks around to find an open luggage on the floor, half-packed. He wasn't planning on any kind of trip.

Bashir sees Kukalaka on the other end of the sofa, his leg half crushing it flat. He doesn't remember pulling it down from the shelf, placing on the sofa. He jerks up his legs, and puts them on the floor with sudden carefulness. If this was some kind of trap, he'd better be careful.

Slowly he walks toward his bed. There lies another person. It is himself, however young. Then this must be sometime in his past. The luggage bag made an obvious answer. It was his first day on DS9.

He doesn't wake the other man. If this is just an anomaly, usually time-passengers were dragged back into their time soon. It was best not to make appearances. The phenomenon may last minutes to days. He just hopes he doesn't come home too late, his planned leave with Ezri is just two days away. He retreats to the living room. He waits five minutes. Nothing happens. Since alpha shift was coming, he leaves his former self's quarter.

It's a relief that since it was only his first day, not many people are likely to recognize him. He will wait for some time. If it doesn't work, then he would have to go to the Captain. Starfleet has protocols for this kind of situation.

He takes a walk in the corridor on the upper level of Promenade. The station has not yet settled. Shops are waiting for repair, few people pass by, and no usual clamorousness. Most of the people are Bajoran and Bashir, a human, starts to draw attention. He feels embarrassed and looks down at himself. He is still wearing pajamas. Maybe it wasn't about his species. He needs to change. He instantly thinks of Garak's shop. It's just across the Promenade, and is open. Garak. He hadn't thought about the man recently. He's suddenly intrigued but thinks better of it. They haven't met, and pajamas are not the ideal clothing for first meetings. Even though Garak liked his pajamas. At least, liked it over the uniforms. Garak hated Starfleet uniform, so it should not mean much.

Several hours later, Bashir got tired of crouching in restroom in Quark's. He tells the Commander. Sisko, not so bald yet and not a Captain as well, takes pity on his dressed form and replicates a pair of civilian clothes. The commander is not much older than he is. He always seemed like a fatherly figure to him, the recognition is strange. Bashir knows that Sisko went through a hard time mourning his wife, but the future lies in front is not a flowery road either. Of course he can't tell him that. Sisko knows too and doesn't ask anything. Instead he assigns a guest quarter and gives a working commbadge. The badge was to record his time of stay - it was programmed to send signals through intervals. Sisko tells him the most important rules in person, and hands a padd with regulations. Bashir was allowed to go outside his quarters but should avoid contact with anyone, especially someone he knows or will. Of all, himself.

He wonders if Sisko had expected a fuss. The Commander seemed awkward confronting the calmer version of the overeager doctor. Bashir had not been subtle at expressing excitement over adventures. Mysteries. Garak. His line of thought trails to Garak again. The fact that Garak is on the station makes him nervous. Garak left about half a year ago and he have gotten used to it. Then why be nervous now? Garak was someone who always reminded him of his younger days. He is afraid if they encounter, he may become the open book Bashir again. One way to find out, but it's too late to do anything. He walks to his assigned quarter and lets himself fall asleep, hoping to wake up seven years later.

Bashir wakes up feeling chilly. He didn't bother to turn the heater on last night. That helps him remember what happened yesterday - or seven years earlier. Unfortunately, the guest quarter has a replicator in it. The guest was supposed to stay in his quarters, of course it has a built-in replicator.

He should know better but he couldn't help himself wanting go out and walk the familiar corridors filled with faces forgotten. The younger Bashir must be busy getting to know his new assignment and fussing about attractive aliens. He silently leaves his quarters. He considers forgetting about the commbadge too, but takes it with him to relieve the guilt, even just a bit.

Bashir settles at the Replimat. Always a good place to watch people, though he almost always had a companion to concentrate rather than the passengers. Now that he doesn't have one, he just sits there and enjoys the odd sensation of being an alien in a familiar place. He begins to hum a song. I'm a legal alien. I'm an Englishman in New York. How funny, he is not exactly alien, despite himself being an Englishman. He couldn't decide if he's legal or not.

It is well mid-morning, too early for lunch and too late for breakfast. He didn't expect any familiar faces, so he startles at the sight of Garak. At least Bashir found him first this time. After recovering from the initial shock, his mind rapidly calculates the odds of causing a serious problem. But then, Garak turns and it is all too late. Reptilian eyes sweeps over the doctor and moves away. The eyes were meant to stay calm and unreadable but Bashir always found slyness, glints of joy, even other feelings in them. This time, there is nothing. His heart clenches. He was sure Garak had taken interest in him from the first time they met. Seems it hadn't been the case.

Bashir slowly takes a sip at Tarkalean tea. He tries his best effort not to stare at him. Garak eats his late breakfast and leaves without another glance at the doctor. Bashir doesn't know whether he should feel relieved or not.

Somewhat disappointed he returns to his quarters. On the way he met Kira, who frowned at him. He remembers exactly what he babbled about "frontier medicine" to her. Damn perfect memories, damn his lack of carefulness. He learned what it meant the hard way.

The next morning, he takes a walk again. This time it's entirely because of Garak. He needs to talk to him. He could talk when he gets back, but somehow it seems more surreal than to start a conversation with this stranger. Him and Garak haven't exchanged a single letter since Garak left. He doesn't even know how to contact him. Garak did not give him anything, except for a light squeeze at the shoulder. This morning Garak does not show up.

Bashir knows where to find him. He directly walks to his shop. There's no customer inside so he walks in. Garak greets with his customary smile.

"What can I help you with?"  
"I want a shirt. I don't have a sense in fashion, so can you recommend one?"  
"I fear I haven't got much of human fashion in stock. But I'll manage to find a decent one, it would be a shame to disappoint such an attractive customer."

What a flirt. After that cold glare yesterday? Bashir hooted inside.

"I don't need human fashion. I'm out in the space, not on Earth."

"I believe you are right. An open mind, the essence of an intellect. Come here, please, I have something for you."

Bashir stands aside while Garak works his hand between hanging clothes. He studies the Cardassian's face. It's exactly the same as he remember. Gray, scales in the very same places, downed mouth when he's not smiling. Garak raises his head abruptly and Bashir quickly looks away. Garak tilts his head with a knowing smile.

The shirt Garak gave him fit perfectly. Not just in shape, also in color. Garak makes an appreciative noise from behind. Bashir meets his gaze through the mirror.

"Thanks for the recommendation, but I'm afraid I can't buy them."

"Why did you ask for a shirt, then?" He asked innocently.

"I was taking a chance to have a talk with you. Can we talk, how about this evening?" burst out Bashir, already regretting to say with little patience.

Garak looked surprised. "I don't know what you found so interesting about a humble tailor, but I would be delighted. Thanks for the offer, but I have an appointment in the evening."

"What about tomorrow? I can wait,"

"It's nearly lunchtime. How about we continue this at the Replimat?"

Bashir doesn't hide a grin. "That sounds delightful."

**Author's Note:**

> The plot goes on like this: Bashir talks with past!Garak who's alluring but closed off, thinks he hasn't changed during the seven years and gets gloomy, returns to his time to discover that it's not true.
> 
> The last paragraph was supposed to be something like:  
> They do not speak for a while, staring at each other. Garak is first to speak. "Doctor." Bashir thinks he heard some crack in that voice. If he did, he doesn't show. "Garak." Suddenly Garak is his former self, face all smiling. It seems so genuine he mistakes it for a mask. But it isn't. Bashir knows that, after all those years, Garak has changed.


End file.
